Night
by so nice so smart
Summary: She didn't dare move. If this was all a dream, one sudden movement could bring her crashing back to reality. But how could this be a dream? She could feel his hands on her jaw, pulling her closer, his body heat."


Here's my second go at a fanfic. I'm so excited! lol

Night

She lay in silence, watching the moon beams dance on her window. It was terribly cold here, in her room. She wore her warmest nightgown and two blankets and still this wasn't enough. She sighed, and watched the misty cloud that was her breath disappear before her eyes. Darkness cloaked every corner of her room. She reckoned it was past midnight. It didn't matter; she would be able to rest tomorrow by the looks of it. She rolled onto her side, her head propped on her arm. The thick white flakes fell in large, fleeting masses, giving the illusion that the entire street was blanketed in a white sheet. She closed her eyes, dropping herself back onto her pillow.

No customers tomorrow.

The thought brought immense relief to Mrs. Lovett. How nice it would be to sleep in, even if it was only for a day. Her legs desperately needed some rest. She could hardly feel her feet. Ignoring her protesting knees, she jumped out of her covers, suddenly restless and giddy. She searched for something, anything, to do. Her room was already very tidy. There was nothing she could do here. Gently pulling her door open, she gave her bed one last glance. How warm it looked now, and inviting! A part of her longed to return to its softness, but she shook her head firmly, ridding herself of the thought. She could rest tomorrow.

She tiptoed through the halls, determined not to wake the boy, who was fast asleep in the small room beside hers. She pulled the pins out of her hair and tossed them aside aimlessly, gathering her hair around her neck in a poor attempt for warmth. Her bare feet whispered across the wood panels, not making the slightest noise.

Filmy strands of moonlight shone through the windows in her kitchen. She watched in fascination as tiny dust motes Curious, she put out her finger to touch one, watching as her hand was bathed in the milky light. Everything was so peaceful at night. So calm, so quiet. It was beautiful, this darkness.

She slid into a booth and pressed her nose against the window, giggling at the childlike movement. The streets were empty, with only a few shadows ghosting through the alleys. The sputtering gaslights flicked what little light they gave on the buildings. She moved away from the eerie scene, shivering from the cold contact with the window. A sudden thought struck her, and she tilted her head, looking up at the ceiling. There was no noise. Had he stopped pacing? Was he finally asleep, the silly man? Her giggle lighted through the air like a butterfly on delicate wings. Remembering the boy, she put her hand to her lips, and all was silent again.

She left the kitchen.

The parlor was dark. She bent to pick a book up off the floor, squinting at its title. She placed it on the dusty bookshelf, moving carefully, slowly. Her eyes scanned the cold floor with difficulty, making sure she wasn't going to put her foot down on a stray object. She lifted her eyes to the rest of the room.

How long it had been since this room was once bathed in sunlight, radiating happiness and warmth. She missed those days, she did. She knelt in a corner, pulling her nightgown down around her legs. Rummaging through the cabinet, she searched diligently for a candle, but found none. She sighed and stood, muttering crossly. Where was a bloody candle when you needed it? She gave the room one last look. Had it always been this small? she wondered. Or was it the dark that made it seem so? She surveyed the room again, taking in every shadow filled corner. It was the dark, she decided. She turned to leave but upon hearing the slightest muffled -thump-, she froze.

She whipped around, feeling shivers shoot up her spine. There was someone else here. She strained her eyes, trying to see through the inky blackness that was the night. She could make out the vague outline of the settee. There was someone on it , she realized, horror rising in her throat. How had she missed it?

The figure rose and she backed away in fright. "Who are you?" she stammered. The figure remained silent, advancing on her, and as she backed away, he walked into the moonlight. Relief swept through her as the familiar features came into view.

Mr. Todd watched her reaction, a rare smile tugging at the corners of his lips. Her cheeks flushed in embarassment. Had he been watching her? Instead of snapping at him, she gave him a timid smile, hoping he hadn't noticed the rush of color to her face.

"What are you doing down 'ere, Mr. T?" she asked.

He shrugged. "It got too cold."

She pressed a hand to her mouth to keep the gasp there. "Oh-Mr. T! I'm so sorry, I should have made you stay down here, what with all the snow!"

He wasn't listening. He was still watching her, amused. She wore only a thin cotton nightgown, her thick red curls flowing loosely down her shoulders. The livid, rosy colouring in her cheeks was attributing to her white skin. Her chestnut eyes were focused solely on his. He lifted a hand to her lips, and her chattering ceased at once. He traced their fullness with a finger, admiring the pale pink color that they were. She stared up at him, completely motionless, save for the fluttering in her chest.

He moved his hand to her hair, feeling the silky curls twist through his fingers. He knew that later a faint trace of lavender would remain on his hands; it wafted off her skin lightly. She closed her eyes for the shortest of seconds, a small "Mmm," escaping her lips. He watched her lips part as she took in a breath, and suddenly leaned in, pressing his lips to hers.

An explosion of warmth flooded him. He felt warmer than he'd ever been in years. It felt surprisingly.. good. All those years of cold, metal darkness washed away, replaced by the baker's warmth. He pressed harder into the kiss, hungry for more, for the sweet taste of her mouth. She stiffened under his lips, shocked.

Was he actually kissing her? She didn't dare move. If this was all a dream, one sudden movement could bring her crashing back to reality. But how could this be a dream? She could feel his hands on her jaw, pulling her closer, his body heat. His lips moved soundlessly against hers. They felt so good, so real . Confusion pulled at her brow. This wasn't a dream, then?

He placed a hand on the small of her back, pulling her waist in. She was pressed against his chest now, and she took the oppurtunity to lift a hand and place it gingerly on his chest. He seemed so different, caring about nothing else in the world but her lips. She'd never seen him like this. But she would take it. Her eyes fluttered closed; she eased into the kiss, raising her hesitant arms to his neck, pulling herself up to reach on her tip toes.

The kiss they shared was nothing like he'd ever felt with Lucy, he realized. It could never compare. Lucy had always been careful and overly modest, always jerking away whenever she thought he was being too forward. But this.. this was better. He moved his lips down to her jaw, suckling at the soft skin there. She arched beneath his lips, moaning. She grasped fistfuls of his hair, shuddering. The heat radiated off her small frame, seemingly flowing into him.

He pulled away for air, his mind racing. The taste of her lingered on his tongue. Slowing his breaths, he looked down at Mrs. Lovett, who leaned uneasily against the nearest wall, stunned. He felt very much the same. An overwhelming blur of confusion and anger swept over him. He tore his eyes away from the baker and fled the room, his mind churning.

Later, as she lay in bed, she replayed the night's happenings in her mind. What had gone wrong? Why had he left? She brought her fingers to her lips, tracing their shape. She could still see him there, watching her. She could see him any time in her head, if she wanted to.

The shadows danced, slowly molding into a shapeless light that crept in through the window. The hours inched by soundlessly, and with each passing minute the snow thickened on the street, the world outside came to life.

She slept.

Sorry if it sucked. I'm kinda thinking about just leaving it as a one-shot but who knows? I've just started typing up a second part. (But I kinda don't have a clue on where to go from here-help?) Review and you get a nice big meat pie and a visit from Sweeney! Or Mrs. Lovett, whichever you prefer. ;)

btw am currently in need of a beta? (omg i am such a noob! lol)


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